Whispers
by TheGirlWhoCould687
Summary: She loved him, but never got the chance to tell him. He was dead... or so she thought..


**A/N: I don't own any of the characters! If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction, I'd be writing the eighth book**

My eyes scan the rubble around me. Just hours ago we had been battling dark wizards, but now Voldemort had fallen, and all was peaceful once more. Our hearts are in turmoil, yes, but at least we are no longer fighting. So many dead. But there is only one person I'm looking for right now. I haven't seen him since I was battling one of the Carrow siblings just hours ago, but now it feels like days. Even years. I have to find him! You don't understand!

I love him! I love him and I never got the chance to tell him. And now he'll never know. His body is neither among the dead, or the living. It must have been destroyed by some horrible curse during a duel. He can't be dead. Can he? He was alive and breathing a short while ago, and now he's just gone. Poof! Like a candle's flame in the wind. Gone within seconds. Oh Merlin! What am I going to do now? No one even knew we were seeing each other. We were going to tell everyone after the war, but now there's nothing to tell. He was one of the good guys, but no one ever got the chance to know that. Except me. And now his secret is only alive within me. And it shall die in me.

"Hermione.." I hear my name. It's soft, and I can barely hear it. It's as though someone whispered it into the wind. But there is no wind. Not here. I it hear again. This time a little louder. It's his voice. I would recognize it anywhere. But he's not here. I searched everywhere already. It must just be my mind playing tricks on me. Over-active imagination and all. It comes from reading too many books. I have to get out of here.

I go over to Ron and Harry. They both have these bitter-sweet expressions on their faces. They're so glad this war is finally over, but the cost we have payed feels like it is much too high. So many dead. On both their side and ours. Family and friends are gone. Lovers too. And right now, my lover is the only person on my mind. I tell them I'm leaving for a bit. I'm going to apparate to the coast and just try to calm down a little bit. They both understand completely, and wish me luck. They tell me to be careful though. Who knows how many dark wizards are still out there.

**_ooo_**

I've been walking along the coast for hours now, and every so often I hear my name, carried to me on the sea breeze. It's his voice. Always HIS voice. I need to get away from it. It's driving me crazy. He's gone, and yet I can't rid him from my thoughts. I doubt I ever will. I think about the first time we talked to each other. Actually talked, without any name calling or threats. We had talked about our childhoods. How they were so different. Not just because I had thought I was a Muggle and he was a pureblood. His home life, his parents were so much more cruel than my own. While mine had been loving and caring, his had beat him. Well not his mother, she was a wonderful person from what I heard. But his father was a lunatic. He had beat his own son on many occasions. I had felt so bad for him. I don't know what had come over me, but I threw my arms around him and hugged him for all that I was worth. He hadn't responded at first, but then he had. He had wrapped his arms around me. And then he did something I had never expected. He had begun to cry. The sobs had torn through his body. I didn't know what to do, so I had just held him.

Before our little chat we had been arguing, yes, but all that was forgotten. Oh, the fight? I had wanted a place to hide away for a little while, and apparently he had wanted the same thing. I walked in on him in the Room of Requirement. He had been sitting on the floor in front of a black cabinet, and I had almost tripped over his still figure. We had argued, of course, but then out of the blue, he asked me what it was like to think you were a Muggle. To not know about the terrible things that had happened, and were going to happen, in the Wizarding world. That's how we had started discussing our childhoods. How mine was so differed from his own.

After that afternoon, we started meeting regularly in the Room of Requirement. We required peace, and to escape the people we knew for a little while. We required each other, we found out.

"Hermione.." there it is again! I have to get away from here! I have to go somewhere loud! Somewhere where the sounds of other people will drown out this voice I hear. _His_ voice. Draco's voice.

**_ooo_**

It's been five years since I've heard his voice. I bought a flat in London less than a week after the Final Battle. The city sounds drown out any potential voices carried to me by the wind. I still miss Draco like crazy. Everything reminds me of him. Just walking down the street is hard. And it's hard living in an empty flat, all alone. If he was alive, he'd be here with me. We had talked about moving in together after the war. But we never got the chance.. Oh Merlin, I'm probably going to start crying again. Harry had offered me a room at Grimmauld Place, but while Ron lived there I refused. And just recently he and Ginny got married, and who'd want to be living with newly weds. Not I.

After the war, during an interview with some reporters from the Daily Prophet, Ron had kissed me full on the mouth. It felt so strange, like kissing a brother. Of course, every camera-man had snapped a million pictures of it, and our kiss was on the front page the next morning. "War Heroes' Blooming Romance" Not! Ron confessed his great love for me later, after the interview, but I turned him down. I had thought that if I gave him a few days to calm down from the excitement of our victory that he'd just take it back. After all, he has the emotional range of a bloody teaspoon! I had thought wrong though. It took him two years to get over me. Now he's engaged to Hannah Abbott. Definitely never saw that coming, but as long as he's happy, that's all that matters.

Well then, enough about that. At present, I'm on my way to the Ministry of Magic for a portkey. I'm off to Ireland! I'll be staying at some pub in a town no one's ever heard of, except for the wizards that live there. The pub is situated by some cliffs that have a wonderful view of the ocean, or so I've been told. Well I guess it's time to find out for myself!

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate traveling by Portkey? Probably not, but I assure you it is not a pleasant thing. Ireland! It's so green and beautiful! And this little town is so charming. I'll be taking loads of pictures while I'm here. A week, that's all I have here, and I plan to make the best of it. But for now, I need a drink and a nap.

**_ooo_**

So, I've had my drink and my nap. Time to go adventuring! When I arrived I saw a castle's ruins in the distance. It didn't look like it was too far away, so I think I shall go there. I'm on the outskirts of town, just about to cross the road that separates the town from the rolling hills that lead up to the castle when I stop short. The sea breeze has carried a sound to me. And not just any sound. A voice. It's Draco's voice calling my name again.. After not having heard his voice in five years, it tears me apart. Tears start pouring down my face, and I fall to the ground, shaking uncontrollably. NO! THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING! I scream at myself in my mind.

It seems Mother Nature also feels my pain, for it starts raining. The cold drops on my overheated face snap me out of my daze. I sprint back to the pub, not wanting to get soaked. As I run the drops become bigger and bigger, and fall faster than is necessary. It's outright pouring when I finally reach the pub. I'm a little damp as I stand on the front porch and watch the rain fall. I hear some locals comment about how it hasn't rained this hard in years. Just my luck, right?

And then a memory flashes through my mind. It's Draco and I, down by the Black Lake one night, hours after curfew. We were laying under my favorite tree in a comfortable silence, when he broke the empty air with his words. "I want to go to Ireland someday. To some little town no one's ever heard of. I want to get caught in the rain and explore castles," he had said. I had done just that mere moments ago. I had told Draco I'd join him on his endeavor. But here I am, alone on my own endeavor, with only his voice to haunt me. I need another drink. A stronger drink. And maybe a few. Or a bit more than a few. I need to forget.

I go inside and sit at the bar. The owner asks me what I'd like. I order a Fire Whiskey. No ice. Just straight from the bottle. I almost ask for just the bottle, but I know that just wouldn't be a smart move on my part. And I am supposed to be the smartest witch of my age, you know. The tumbler is to my lips and I'm just about to take a sip, or gulp, when the door to the pub slams open and then closed somewhere behind me. A tall figure, obviously male, dressed all in black comes over to the bar and sits down a few seats from me. He taps the counter and the owner brings him exactly what I'm having. He must want to forget about something, or someone, too. And he must be a regular if the owner knows exactly what he wants. I watch his movements out of the corner of my eyes. I don't know why I feel the need to do this, but I do it anyway. As the owner is walking away to fill someone else's order, the man decides to take off his hood. My eyes grow wide.

He has blonde hair. And not just any blonde hair. Platinum blonde hair.

It's longer than Draco ever had his, but it's still the same color. I want to turn fully and look at this man, but I don't. He's just another man with the same colored hair as Draco. I've seen many men in the past five years with the same shade of blonde. I quickly down my Fire Whiskey and call the owner over for another. At the sound of my voice, the man looks up from his own drink. From the corner of my eye his eyes look silver. But who really knows, with only these small candles floating oddly around the room? It can't be Draco. It just can't. He's dead!

When the owner comes over with my drink, he notices the tears falling down my face. Yes, I have begun to cry again. I just can't help it. Before the man has even fully placed my drink in front of me, I'm gone. I'm sprinting out the door of the pub into the dark and the pouring rain. My feet splash through puddles as I run through the muddy streets of this small town that no one has ever heard of. Right now, I wish that I had never heard of it either. I run. I run hard and fast, and before I know it, I'm standing on the edge of the cliffs. I turn back and look at the town, it's lights just little dots from here.

I watch the waves crash violently on the rocks below me. Would it hurt if I jumped? Would it hurt more than the breaking of my heart every time I hear or see something that reminds me of my lost lover? Something compels me to look back at the town again, and this time I see the silhouette of a man walking towards me. Even from here, I can see his shock of almost white blonde hair. Why has this strange man followed me?

"Hermione.." I hear my name on the wind that whips around me. My name swirls around me with the myriad of rain drops. I close my eyes, trying to stop the tears that still pour down my cheeks and combine with the rain. When I open my eyes again, the man is standing just a few inches from me. My eyes meet his as I look up at them.

They're silver. They're Draco's.

"Hermione," I hear him whisper as he reaches out and touches my cheek with his cold hand.

He's real. I'm not just imagining him. He's here and he's alive! So many questions burn within me at this moment. But I let my body take over a moment, and I propel myself into his arms, my lips meeting his passionately. I haven't kissed anyone in five years. Yes, Ron kissed me, but I had refused to kiss him back. Draco's lips were the only ones mine wanted. And they were getting what they had desired these past years. By now we were chilled to the bone, but we didn't care. We just stood there on that cliff and kissed each other like we hadn't seen each other in years. Oh wait, we hadn't!

At last we pull apart, and wordlessly Draco takes my hand and we run back to the pub. I refuse to let go of his hand as we run through the main room and then up to what I assume to be his room. It's right next to mine. Fate? I think so.

We sit on his bed in our soaking wet clothes as he explains everything to me. Moments after the Final Battle had ended, his mother had dragged him away, for his own safety she had said. She spent weeks trying to get their name cleared with the Ministry, and his mother wouldn't let him leave the Manor. He was planning on visiting me one day, to assure me he was still alive. But at breakfast that morning, he unfolded the Daily Prophet to see me smiling and then Ron kissing me in the moving photograph, over and over. It had ripped his heart out he says. I had looked so happy. He convinced himself that he wasn't good enough for me. The faded Dark Mark on his arm was proof enough of that. He didn't want to ruin the happiness he thought I had, he didn't want to ruin my life. He thought he would taint my existence, that everyone would think terribly of me if they knew I was dating an ex-Death Eater. I tell him how these last five years have been torture without him. How much I've missed him, how I've thought he was dead. I tell him how much I love him. Yes, I actually get to tell him I love him! I feels so natural to say those three little words to this man. "I love you."

"I love you... Hermione," he whispers back.

And at last I see his lips form these letters that make my name. My name is no longer just a word carried to me by a distant breeze. It is real.


End file.
